


the consequences of gillyweed

by Ardrossan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Minor Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Minor Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Not Really Character Death, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:54:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23039677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ardrossan/pseuds/Ardrossan
Summary: Gillyweed has many useful properties and some not so useful ones, all of which should be considered when using it to try and sabotage the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament. Especially if you're fourteen and you can't cast spells wordlessly.Albus and Scorpius considered neither of those things and it changed everything.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 82
Collections: HMS Harmony Discord Drabbles





	the consequences of gillyweed

**Author's Note:**

> There are many things which annoy me about Cursed Child but the pettiest has to be Albus and Scorpius apparently wordlessly casting Engorgio on Cedric as fourth years. 
> 
> Thus, spite-fic.

**24th February 1995, Hogwarts.**

Setting up the ‘Ron loves Hermione’ fireworks to go off while the Gillyweed took effect was frantic hard work as they slowly lost the ability to breathe air with Ludo Bagman’s jocular demands for the different schools to cheer in the background. Gasping, finally, they dove into the water as Bagman announced that the task was about to begin. The Black Lake in February was ice cold, even with the gillyweed making them able to breathe and they were instantly soaked through. Scorpius’ eyes widened as he gestured frantically at Albus and then felt at his own neck, grinning widely when he felt his own set of gills there. 

Part one of their plan was ready, the fireworks would remind Ron and Hermione that they loved each other and then when they got back to the future everything would be fine. Ron and Hermione would be married, Rose and Hugo would be back, Cedric would be alive and everyone would be happy. 

They kicked hard, trying to stay together as they scanned the murky water for any sign of the champions. Scorpius turned to Albus to ask what they were going to do if they encountered any other champions first but Albus was tugging at his arm and pointing. Cedric’s dark head with it’s amusing appearance of wearing an upside down fishbowl which stretched out his features was coming closer. 

Fumbling in soaking, clinging robes for their wands both boys pointed them at Cedric.

“Engorgio,” Albus shouted. Or he tried to. No words came out of his mouth, only bubbles. He swirled to look at Scorpius, who was having the same problem. Just bubbles. Nothing was working. They couldn’t cast spells. Worse, Cedric seemed to have noticed them and was swimming towards them.

Grabbing at Scorpius, suddenly aware of how little time they had, Albus kicked frantically to take them further away from Cedric. Why hadn’t he thought of this? Why hadn’t his dad mentioned this?

They were close enough to the surface to hear Bagman’s roar of laughter, magnified by magic but distorted by the water.

“Well well well,” he boomed amidst the laughter, “I suppose someone’s feeling amorous. Ron loves Hermione. Who’s the lucky lady? Shall we get her up here?” 

“At least that part of our plan worked,” Albus tried to say despite the bubbles but when he looked around, Scorpius was nowhere to be found. He tried to kick to get back to the surface but everything seemed to be going dark and the time turner around his neck was dragging him somewhere and then there was nothing.

* * *

**24th February 2021, Hogwarts**

“When we had kids I should have expected this,” Hermione rolled her eyes fondly at Harry as they walked along the lake shore, hand in hand, “I should have guessed that at least one of them would inherit your propensity for being utterly terrifying on a broom. Here I thought that when we left school those terrifying Quidditch matches were over.”

Harry grinned at her. “At least he’s not flying a dragon. Or trying to outfly a dragon. It’s just Quidditch.”

“Just Quidditch is more than enough,” she said, “but yes, fortunately he doesn’t seem to have inherited your ability to attract trouble.”

“He got your brains too,” Harry nudged her with their joined hands, “all of them have. McGonagall might be Headmistress but secretly I think she’s glad that Gryffindor’s won the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup for four straight years now.”

“I’m just glad Hogwarts seems to have gotten safer since we were there,” they stopped and she turned to look up at the castle, letting go of his hand but conveniently turning herself in to Harry’s chest against the brisk February chill, “I can’t imagine managing if our kids had to go through what you went through at school.”

“What we went through,” he kissed the top of her head and leant his own against hers, looking up at the castle which had once been his home but no longer felt like it. 

“Especially now Evan’s a fourth year. Just remembering ours,” she shuddered.

“We never did find out who set off those stupid fireworks,” he chuckled, “Fred and George still say it wasn’t them and I’ve asked.”

“Don’t remind me,” she groaned and he smiled into her hair, “if I ever find out who did it I’ll curse them until they wish they’d never been born.”

“It was certainly surprising to come out of the lake to,” he said, “and our faces were a picture. I almost wish we’d kept that Daily Prophet that the picture showed up on. We could have it framed.”

“No.” Hermione said firmly.

“I was kidding love,” he said, “I wouldn’t bring that in the house, I promise.”

“Nobody  _ shut up _ about it for weeks,” she groused, “that Prophet was everywhere even after I started setting fire to them.”

“I remember. You and Ron refused to talk if anyone was around for the rest of the year. The articles Skeeter wrote.”

“Molly.”

“Molly,” he agreed.

“Malfoy.”

“Merlin, Malfoy was a prick about the entire situation,” Harry sighed, “well, more of a prick than he was usually. At least if he’s still laughing about that now at least he’s doing it from Azkaban so we can’t hear him.”

“Harry, let’s not talk about him,” she said, pulling away a little.

“Right you are Madame Minister.” She shoved at him with another roll of her eyes. He grinned. “Right you are Mrs. Potter.”

“Better,” she kissed him, “now, are we going to go back up to the castle or just apparate home.”

“We could…” he trailed off as he turned. Practised Seeker’s eyes catching the glint of gold off to one side he turned to look at it, hand going to his wand.

“Harry,” Hermione followed his gaze and frowned, “what is a time-turner doing here? McGonagall can’t be handing them out again and nobody who was given one would be stupid enough to lose it in the lake.”

Wordlessly he levitated the little gold sphere with its rings and its hourglass from where it was being lapped by the little waves from the lake over until it was hovering in front of them.

“This doesn’t look anything like the ones at the Ministry,” Hermione said, “either it’s a fake or it's something utterly new.”

“So much for us having a day off then,” Harry raised his eyebrows. 

“What is it about you and this place,” she dodged around the maybe-time turner to kiss him again, “you get close to Hogwarts and you start to attract trouble.”

“So long as I’m still attracting you, we’ll be fine,” he said, and they headed up to the castle still hand in hand with a new mystery to solve. 


End file.
